


two weeks

by justlikeswitchblades



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7825396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Haus attic gets a little chilly in winter, but it's not so bad when Ransom has Bitty by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two weeks

Blinking himself of sleep early one February morning, Ransom’s first thought is that he doesn’t want to wake up just yet. The attic is full of the harsh gray-white light that accompanies the sun in winter, bearable only when facing away from the window, and there’s a dull pounding in his head—less intense than what he’s used to, but a sliver of a hangover nonetheless. On top of that, there’s a chill in the air. He knows the Haus furnace battles valiantly to keep them warm, but its efforts often struggle to reach the top bunk.

Thankfully, he’s not alone. There’s another pair of legs tangled up with his own, and he shifts to his side, smiling at the serenity on Bitty’s sleeping face. The light catches on a small patch of fair hair at the center of this chest, and Ransom smoothes it with his fingers, sinking back into his pillow. He traces lazy circles over Bitty’s chest, his nipples starting to perk in the cool air, and Ransom rubs at the stray curlicues that grow there. Bitty’s eyebrows draw together, a shiver interrupting the peace between them, and Ransom presses closer, pulling the blankets back up over their shoulders. 

Bitty’s eyes are large and dark and hazy with sleep, his smile bringing up warmth in Ransom’s chest that works against the chill in the room. But before he can speak, Ransom puts an index finger to his lips, a knowing light filling his eyes when Holster’s snoring dawns upon his ears.

“Bitty,” Ransom laughs softly, keeping his voice at a whisper, “I think we’ve been caught.”

“Goodness,” Bitty nuzzles into his neck, and Ransom can feel him smile against his skin, “You just might be right.”

“I mean, it's still early—you could always sneak back into your room,” Ransom stifles a yawn, “But my mom would probably be upset if she heard I didn't escort my date home.”

“As she should be!” Bitty peeks up at Ransom, teeth flashing white in a grin, “But it’s not like we _meant_ to keep it a secret. It's just that no one asked, or happened to see anything.”

Ransom nods in agreement, “For all of two weeks. Though we've been practicing a lot, and classes are starting to kick into gear, so I can't say I blame them.”

“For all of two _official_ weeks,” Bitty corrects, “They had plenty of time to notice when we kept getting handsy at these past few Haus parties.”

“I’m sorry, _we_? You were the one that kept prying me away from flip-cup.”

“I suppose that’s true...Guess I better offer Holster an apology.”

“Maybe,” Ransom turns away, looking down at the pile of his and Bitty’s clothes sitting rather unceremoniously on the floor, “From what I see, I’d wager Holster pinned your underwear to the corkboard before finally passing out last night, so you might be even.”

“Lord,” Bitty sighs, “The group chat is already painful enough to read with everyone’s drunk typos, god forbid they have something to be excited about. That’s gonna hurt to read through when I get my phone out of my room.”

“No doubt,” Ransom’s lip twitches up in a smile, “Speaking of hurt, your head feeling okay?”

“Nothing water and some food can’t solve,” Bitty returns the smile, pecking Ransom’s cheek, “You?”

“About the same,” Ransom’s fingers trail up and down his shoulders, “Want me to help with breakfast?”

“Mm, I was thinking about just stealing you for coffee and doughnuts,” Bitty hums, leaning his forehead on Ransom’s shoulder, “Everyone in the Haus has made it through a hangover before—they can fend for themselves.”

“Gee, Bits,” Ransom laughs, “Even the frogs?”

“I’m hungover enough to know that C would be too loud, and that risking a Nursey-Dex argument would be even worse,” Bitty winces, apologetic, “Is that so bad?”

Ransom waves a hand, “Nah, I get it. We’ll see them at practice tomorrow anyways.” 

Bitty shivers, pulling the blankets tighter around him. Ransom squeezes him in a hug, then slings a leg over the covers a moment later, shimming down to the ladder at the end of the bed. He grabs the red Samwell hoodie hanging off the back of his chair, then a pair of sweatpants and boxers from his drawers, stepping into the sweats and eyeing Holster warily as he shifts in his sleep. Then, he climbs back up, depositing the boxers and the hoodie atop Bitty.

“Thanks, Rans,” Bitty sits up to pull the hoodie on, and Ransom nods, lying back beside him. 

“I was thinking, Bitty—why do we always come up here? You’re the one who doesn’t have a roommate.”

Bitty winks an eye closed, his nose wrinkling in thought, “Atmosphere?” He offers, “Less people traffic?”

“You do realize that Holster disproves both of those points.”

“True,” Bitty laughs, slipping back under the covers once he’s got Ransom’s boxers on, “I don’t know. It’s just comfy, I guess.”

“You have a bigger bed.”

“You’re not wrong,” Bitty hums, flipping the hood up, and it nearly shades his eyes. “We might want a little more privacy once we’re out to the Haus, huh?”

“Just a little.” 

Bitty bites his lip, pulling the blankets up to his chin, “How do you, um, feel about being out?”

“Eh,” Ransom shrugs, “Can’t say America’s most LGBTQ-friendly campus should give me too much grief.”

“And the team?”

“Holster’s brought guys home before. I’ve seen Shitty and Lardo with people whose genders I can’t determine. It’d probably only be a problem if it affected our gameplay, but I don’t think it has, so…” He looks at Bitty, raising his eyebrows, “How do you feel about it?”

“It’s nice to have a boyfriend,” Bitty smiles, “I can’t blab about it too much online because of my parents, which kinda sucks. But the most support I have is already on campus, so in the end, I think I’ll be okay.”

Ransom tucks his arms back behind his head, smiling. His waistband sits at his hips, and Bitty reaches out from underneath the blankets, fingertips running over the line of dark hair that trails from his bellybutton into the elastic.

“Winter’s been killing my skin, man. I need to lotion up later.”

“Honey, winter is killing _your_ skin? You’re from Toronto.”

Ransom laughs, “Like I keep telling you, Bits, Toronto gets warm in summer, too. Canada isn’t a frozen hellscape all the time.”

“I’ll believe it when you take me there.”

“Hell, you ought to come up and visit—Mom loves having guests. We can go to the Falls, do other touristy stuff,” Ransom takes one of the strings of his hoodie, wrapping it around his finger before grinning and giving it a playful yank, “But I’d be more than happy to help you moisturize, in the meantime.”

“Not sure if I want your help now,” Bitty pouts, stretching the hood back out, and Ransom exhales a laugh.

He combs through Bitty’s hair, the once-shaven sides now a little longer in the colder months. His fingers trail back over the shell of Bitty’s ear to cup his cheek, and Bitty leans into his touch, kissing his palm. Ransom shifts onto his side, then, on top of Bitty as Bitty rolls onto his back, aided by the gently, urging press of Ransom’s hand on his chest. Ransom kisses Bitty, deliberate and slow, and Bitty loops his arms around his neck, fingernails grazing his nape.

“Oh man,” Ransom pulls back a moment later, making a face, “Morning breath is not my favorite thing.”

“You don’t exactly taste like Colgate yourself, sweetheart,” Bitty hums, “But that doesn’t mean I want you to stop.” 

Bitty’s eyes are half-shaded as he looks at Ransom, the corner of his lip lifting in a grin, and Ransom dutifully leans back in. His hands slide under Bitty’s sweatshirt, his stomach exposed as he pushes up the hem, and his kisses turn hungrier despite the stale breath shared between them. Bitty reaches down, palming the front of his sweatpants, and Ransom pauses, carefully prying his hand away.

“Rans,” Bitty inquires in a soft voice, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Ransom scratches at the back of his head, “I’m cool with sexiling Holster, but I, uh, don’t wanna go too far when he’s still in the room, if that makes sense.”

“Oh, gosh,” Bitty gasps, clapping a hand to his mouth as his cheeks color, “Of course it does! I’m so sorry about that, I nearly forgot he was here.”

“Aw, bro, you don’t have to be so considerate,” croaks a voice below them, “Hell, I’ll even watch if you let me sober up first.”

“Motherf—” Ransom scrambles off of Bitty, sticking his arm down the side of the bed to flip off Holster, who responds with a taunting laugh. He rolls back, burying his face in Bitty’s chest with a sigh, and Bitty smiles, combing over Ransom’s hair until he finally lifts his head.

“Coffee?” He suggests with a weary smile, and Bitty nods lazily, his hood falling down to his shoulders.

“It’s a good idea,” He yawns, settling back into the pillows, “But I can’t say I’m getting out of bed first.”

Ransom raises his eyebrows, “Even with Holster here?”

“His head probably hurts too much for him to sass us any further,” Bitty wagers with a tilt of his head, his grin a little mischievous as Holster makes a miserable noise beneath them. Ransom purses his lips, then shrugs, wrapping his arms around Bitty a moment later.

“You’re the boss, Bits,” He sighs, smiling as he nuzzles into the fleece of his hoodie, “Wake me up when you wanna go.”


End file.
